Rock Hard And Wet (BBW Paranormal Romance) (Nymphs Of New York) by Jennifer James

his footing and stood. Something wet and slippery coated his
back.
    “Fly,
Theo. Fly now.”
    Fly? He
shook his head, tried to clear the confusion from his head and the burn in his
muscles.
    Petra
shouted, and he swiveled his head. She had one hand clamped over her mouth, her
gaze turned toward the sky.
    Logan
plummeted toward them, out of control, a dark grey mass attached to his back.
With Callie clutched to his chest, he had no way to defend himself from the
attack.
    The aerie
screamed at him, and he flexed the muscles that controlled his wings, shock
reverberated when he realized what they’d done.
    His
mate and his twin continued on their out of control descent toward the ground.
He gathered every resource he had left in his body and clambered up the wall of
the building. Once on the roof, he raced for the far side, shoved off with his
hind legs, and unfurled the new wings. The wet, bloody membranes snapped out to
catch the wind, but his back muscles had atrophied and weakened from lack of
use. He doubled his efforts and ignored the pop of muscle fibers snapping with
a deep, singing burn. Holes ripped through the new, weak skin and he faltered.
Magic funneled into him from the aerie and he doubled his efforts, unwilling to
lose his brother or his mate to senseless hatred and fear.
    Later
he’d wonder why they lent him their aid. Now, he trained his eyes and efforts
on intercepting death.
    Angling
above and to the left of his brother, he folded his wings in tight and arrowed
for the attacker ripping at Logan’s back and wings. A fellow grotesque perched
on Logan, tearing at and pummeled him. Theo collided with the assailant in a
terrible crash. He gripped the villain with his claws—gouged at the male’s back
and legs with his talons until the attacker released Logan.
    Logan’s
wings had suffered immense damage, and his haunches wept streams of blood. Theo
caught a cross current and flared his wings to send him into a sharp turn, but
the grotesque that had attacked Logan crashed into his rib cage and sent him
into an uncontrolled barrel roll.
    He
tucked his wings in tight to his back, sank his talons into his attacker, and forced
the other grotesque to bear the brunt of their weight if they were to stay
aloft. They smashed into a building and slid down its side to the bottom,
landing in a dank puddle with bricks and sheets of concrete raining down.
    He stood
on shaky legs, one wing crumpled and useless from the collision.
    The
body next to his shocked him. “Why?”
    “I protect
the aerie.” Booker
got to his knees, then his feet. “She would have polluted our ranks with
half-breed mongrels.”
    “You
are part human.” The
hatred on Booker’s face shocked him. Of all the aerie, Booker was the last
person he’d have thought capable of such prejudice.
    “And
I am weaker for it. I must protect the bloodlines from further denigration.” The other grotesque circled to
his left and Theo readied himself for attack. “I exist nowhere, on the
fringes of two worlds, belonging to none. Even my hunting form is a pathetic
shadow.”
    Booker
surged for him. Theo stayed low to the ground and took him at the legs, flattening
him onto his back. Talons slashed at Theo’s face and eyes, but the ruff of his
mane protected his throat. He used the long barb in his tail to pin Booker’s
right arm to the ground, climbed up his torso, and sank his claws into his
thighs and biceps.
    The
voices of the aerie crowded his mind again, demanding he carry out the
punishment due Booker for his crimes. A part of him wanted nothing more than to
execute. The torture done to Callie, the attack on Logan, those things demanded
retribution.
    But
revenge came with a cost.
    “No.
I will not execute him. He attacked my mate, the female I love. But he did it
because misguided strictures of our society have twisted his mind and heart. I
have lived long enough under your thumbs. Do your own dirty work.”
    Theo
reared back and slashed Booker’s